


100 and one ways to mess up a demon summoning

by LiXenn



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demon Summoning, Demons, Fantasy, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Magic, Worldbuilding, no beta we die like men, not that i'm any good at it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-01-26 04:56:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21368536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiXenn/pseuds/LiXenn
Summary: Cassandra Felicitas Knightingale is a young woman trying herself in the popular art of demon summoning to honor her dead parents and to gain a lot of cash so that she doesn't end up on the streets. Sadly she inherited non of her parents' talent for the job and is left with more problems than she started with.Follow Cassandra and her best friend/minder Raphael Yves as they crash demon parties, escape angry relatives and piss off the whole summoning guild by ruining their famous reputation.
Kudos: 1





	1. Try # 1 and the reason why I have no fridge

**Author's Note:**

> Hey and welcome to my first work!   
I just want to mention that I'm not a native speaker and this isn't edited so you probably will find mistakes in this story. I don't really have much experience with posting the stuff I write when inspiration hits me so I welcome comments or constructive critic with open arms.   
I hope you enjoy the story and have fun reading!  
(I also posted this on Wattpad under xOLischennOx)

So, naturally, my first attempt on demon summoning didn't go _exactly _as planned.

But - let's be honest - nobody expects his first try to work. It's a universal truth that the first time is always some kind of trial run, so you can just shrug your shoulders after the whole thing blows up in your face and be like "It was the first. It'll work next time."

Of course, genius' are expectation of this rule and for all my awesomeness I am certainly not a genius. So the universe demanded my failure and my summoning went to hell (well not literally but you know what I mean).

I was even prepared for it. The lack of confidence in my abilities is kind of depressing - now that I think about it - but it certainly saved my life in the long run. Because somebody in my line of work would end up as a pile of ashes if they didn't have a fire extinguisher at least within arm reach (it was highly recommend in every "Summoning for dummies" guide I've ever read and believe me I was _thorough_) I had my darling Bertha right at hand and everything was handled.

Since explosions and random fires are pretty much in my job description I was ready for the flames on my fridge (even if it was on the other end of the room). I immediately covered the fridge as well as half of my apartment in white foam and bid goodbye to my lunch.

Heavily sighing I combed my hand through my short brown hair and stared at the mess I created. Foam everywhere, flames still licking at my furniture and the blood from my summoning array leaving a metallic stink in the air.

The feeling of failure held nothing against the crushing realization that I was the one who had to clean up this utter clusterfuck.

I felt like sighing again.

And rolling up in a ball while wallowing in self-pity. Probably even crying a bit, which has always the effect of making me feel better as well as leaving me as a little lump of patheticness. I couldn't decide if that small let out of my negative emotions through tears was worth ruining the rest of my already destroyed make-up and therefore my still lingering good mood. In the end all I could do was flinching when the shrilling of the doorbell brought me out of my state of depression. I considered just staying in my wrecked living room and ignoring whoever had the nerve to visit me in one of my worst *hem embarrassing hem* moments.

But let it be known that I - Cassandra Felicitas Knightingale - may be a lousy demon summoner but at the very least I knew my manners. So as the polite person I was, I opened the front door and hoped to get away with not offering any beverages (since most of them are still on fire).

I was greeted by the sight of my best friend Raphael who got one good look of me and immediately stated with a flat voice.

"Didn't work, huh?"

It was one thing to admit failure when you are alone in dark corner of the world where nobody can hear you. It was a completely different issue if your supposed _friend _picked up your failings and slapped them right across your face while standing on your doorstep. In public. Where everybody and their dog could hear him.

You couldn't blame me for pouting. "I don't know where it went wrong. I followed the instructions of the book to the point."

Raphael nodded sagely. "Of course you did. It's not like your home is burning down." Then he fake-gasped, his eyes widening unreasonably large, because my best friend is a sarcastic little shit. "But look at that. There is fire, how did I not notice."

My cheeks were burning as hot as my fridge did only a few minutes ago.

"Shut up," I muttered and opened the door wide enough for him to step inside.

He just chuckled, clearly amused and ignored the words I threw at him.

Once we were in the living room, I expected him to rub it in that I screwed up but instead was met with intense silence.

I was immediately suspicious.

When he turned around he raised one of his perfect trimmed eyebrows and gave me - dare I say it - an incredulous look, which made me slightly uncomfortable (who am I kidding I was ready to jump out of the window at this point).

This combination of lifted eyebrow and plain disbelief on his face was one of the expressions Raphael saved for the times I did something incredibly stupid and him being a rather successful practitioner of summoning was as good as a confirm that I really messed up. Big time.

He folded his arms in front of his chest and stared me down like a mother finding her child's hand in the cookies jar. I may have never had the pleasure of being mothered but my aunt was very good at disappointing looks. And to my misfortune Raphael was just as good at imitating them.

"You should be glad that the apartment complex is still standing," he stated flatly, disapproval dripping from his voice and making me wish the ground swallowed me up whole. "I can give you at least 27 mistakes which could have left you with either an explosion grand enough to make a nuclear bomb look like fireworks or the apocalypse by demon invasion and I. am. Still. Counting."

I gulped and chose the course of action which left me un-maimed. Namely shutting the hell up and looking as regretful as possible.

It seemed that I wasn't very successful since Raphael's glare seemed to intensify a tenfold.

"You have the devils luck and I pray to all the gods above that you didn't get it through a summoning."

At this point I normally would start to protest and at least defend myself against this tirade but one look at the remains of my fridge caused my argument to get stuck in my throat.

Raphael sighed, clearly exasperated with my antics and sounding very tired.

He may have gotten used to my clumsy, skittish self because instead of slapping me like I deserved he only turned around to look at the chaos I created and said.

"Well, let's get started with the clean up."

I sighed in relief. "I always knew there was a reason why I kept you around."

He wasn't very impressed by my words which he showed in barely helping me clean up at all, rather he sat on my coach giving unwanted commentary from the sidelines while I did all the hard work.

I really should learn how to keep my trap shut.

"You know that it isn't prohibited to let somebody check your work before you try summoning right?"

I scowled at his words, scrubbing intensely on the blood on my living-room floor like it personally insulted me (in a way it did - why couldn't it have _worked_, dammit?).

"And _you_ should know that your old hag of a grandmother would never let it count if there was even a hint of an evidence that you helped me," I shot back, still frustrated with the blood stain and my failure. Being reminded of my friend's grumpy relatives whose goal was "make Cassandra's life as difficult as possible" was _not_ helping my case.

But Raphael wasn't stopped by my misery (it was one of the main requirements of being my friend and probably the reason why I had so few). "It's not like I'm drawing out your summoning arrays. I would just look overyour notes and reassure myself that you don't end up killing anybody."

"Oh thank you very much. How honorable of you," I muttered sarcastically under my breath. "I bet the old hag will find out either way so don't bother. I can do this on my own."

Raphael sighed but didn't pry further.

I knew he didn't give up. No, not by a long shot, he was just aware that it was useless to argue with me when I was in one of my moods.

So he left me to my cleaning and mumbled curses while he searched my cupboards for snacks (my best friend was a very petty individual).

It took me two hours to scrub away all the blood, clean up the extinguisher foam and deal with the spontaneous little fires which burned on my fridge every few minutes. Raphael even decided to be merciful and help me halfway through, so I wouldn't sit on this mess until midnight. (His words not mine!)

In the end Raphael only cautioned me not to try summoning again until he looked over my rough drafts and to - I quote - "not blow myself up" - end quote, while he was gone.

With those soothing words and an empty stomach (thanks for eating up my emergency food supply best friend!) I crawled under my covers and got my much-needed rest.

Cassandras summoning journal

_written by Cassandra Felicitas Knightingale _ **edited by Raphael Yves**

_Try # 1 on 15th April_

_demon for summoning: low rank fire demon class E_

_safety precautions: 1 fire extinguisher _ **... ** **how can you only have a fire extinguisher as precaution?! ** **What about talismans and barrier seals and ... you have no idea what I'm talking about right? *sigh***

_materials: 1 liter pig blood, 3 candles, 1 anchor stone _ **well a** **t least you got that right**

_observations: immediately after chanting fridge caught fire and no demon in sight_

_conclusion: FAILURE_

_reasons for failure: I have no clue _ **there were too many to list them all anyway**


	2. Try # 2 and Coffeebeans Debut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again no edits but who cares you only live once :)  
Comments and Kudos are always welcome  
Have fun reading!

I had a better feeling for my second attempt.

I wouldn't say my success was guaranteed and everything would be absolutely perfect but I had a hunch that it wouldn't end as bad as my first try.

Well, I was wrong. _So_ wrong.

First of all I may or may not have forgotten to tell Raphael that I wanted to try again. So no summoning-editing for me, yay!

Secondly I was out of pig blood so I used some old chicken blood I found in my pantry. I mean, there couldn't be that much of a difference, right? _Right? _(Note to self: Stop tempting Murphy by being an idiot and saying such things out aloud)

And last but not least: I forgot about the cat.

Now you might be wondering _What happened Cassandra? Was it really that bad? And where the hell does that cat come from?_

To answer your questions my dear reader: Everything happened expect what should be happening. It was worse. I was once the proud owner of a tabby cat called Coffeebean (Yes I am aware that I'm bad at naming things but thanks for mentioning it). 

But let's start at the beginning.

I woke up refreshed after a good night sleep and had a "healthy" breakfast consisting of chocolate chip pancakes, greasy beacon and a lot of eggs. 

It felt like a good day.

I was filled with confidence and nearly vibrated with energy. The only thing in my mind was: _I'm ready._

(I ignored the small voice in my head whispering that _you haven't told Raph you changed the materials what if it goes WRONG!_ I took those doubts, put them in a box which was located in the darkest corner of my brain and locked them away never to be found again. I had no need for distractions right now.)

I checked my notes. I sketched the array. I went over my notes once again and reread at least ten pages in my instruction manual before I took a deep breath and started chanting. 

I've barely even begun when I got a glimpse of a shadow at the corner of my eye.

I blinked, then slowly turned my head to get a better look at _whatever_ I saw. All the while I was still rattling off my spell because if there was one thing Raphael cramped into my puny brain about summoning was that you never, absolutely _never _stop chanting once you've started. Unless you want to die a horrible gruesome death where somebody has to stitch your corpse back together for the funeral.

Since I didn't actually want to commit suicide I continued the process and gawked in horror as my _cat_ slowly – step by step – made her way over to the red patterns on the floor.

Now, there is another rule for summoning which is of great importance if you want to keep on living. Namely you must _not_ step into the summoning array. Under no circumstances.

Unfortunately Coffeebean clearly did not read the rule book (or listened to Raphael's famous rants) because she sniffed at the blood and before I could take a step into her direction to stop this madness she leaped into the array right at the moment I finished with my spell.

At first nothing happened and for a moment – for an instant – I thought I got lucky and it would stay that way. 

(But life is a bitch and Lady Luck her whore-y friend who is especially picky with her choice of partner.)

First there was blinding flash of light and then the smell of burned wood.

When I got my vision back there was no cat in sight, the blood vanished and was replaced with black brand marks showing exactly every complicated symbol I painted for my ritual.

My knees gave out and I sank down on the floor at a complete loss of what to do now.

So I did what I always do when the world doesn't make sense anymore. I called my best friend.

Numbly I took out my phone from my back-pocket and pressed speed-dial. I didn't even register the beeping as well as Raphael's annoyed "What?"

I just stared completely stunned at my scorched floor where Coffeebean walked over my summoning array without a care in the world just a few minutes ago.

It took me some time to get any words out but when I was ready my voice still sounded faint.

"I think I just killed my cat."

A pause.

Then. "WHAT?"

This time it wasn't annoyed but full of disbelief. So I repeated my words.

An even longer pause. Then a curse. Then some noise that sounded like rushed footsteps. "Okay, what the hell happened?" He didn't give me a chance to reply before he started talking again. "No, don't answer that I can imagine"

I heard him getting his keys and shutting the door. "Just stay where you are. Wait ... is something on fire? Are you _hurt_?"

I shook my head but remembered that I'm on the phone and he couldn't see me. I gave him a tentative "No."

Raphael sighed. "Well small miracles. Stay put, don't move. I'm coming over as quick as I can."

He hung up and I just sat there on the floor still in shock until I heard my best friend knocking loudly on my door.

  
In a daze I stood up and let Raphael in my apartment where he promptly stormed into my living room only to stop dead at the sight of the marks on the tiles.

Meekly I stepped up to him and withheld the urge to grab his hand like a little kid seeking comfort from its parents.

After a moment that felt like a century to me Raphael just shook his head, then frowned. "Where is the body?"

  
It took me at least a minute to get the meaning of his question only to be overwhelmed by enormous feelings of grief.

"There is no body," I answered, trying not to choke on my words.

"What do you mean 'There is no body'?" he asked dubiously.

I finally snapped. "Well what do you think it means, Mister Know-it-all?"

Raphael turned to look at me and I could see the worry in his eyes which somehow only made me angrier.

The whole level of my emotions scared me a little bit to be honest.

I mean Coffeebean was very dear to me. She was my sole companion on the lonely nights when the loss of my parents hit me once again like a brick to the head. Beside Raphael she had been my only friend (and doesn't that say way more about my social life than any other words could express).

So sue me. I was absolutely devastated but not enough to justify shrieking at Raphael like a fury seeking for vengeance.

_Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance _I heard the small voice in the back of my mind whispering again (this time sounding suspiciously like my old school teacher).

I took a deep breath.

_Right, five stages of grief. What I am going through is totally natural. There is no need to get worked up Cassandra. You are only experiencing the typical phenomenon of loss. You don't have an emotional breakdown. You are fine. Everything. Is. Completely. Alright._

Who was I kidding?

Not Raphael apparently since he still looked like he wanted to wrap me in a shock blanket and shove liters of hot chocolate down my throat.

So my inner monologue probably didn't help in the calming down department.

(By the way, second note to self: Stop having internal conversations with yourself before somebody takes a look inside your head and declares you insane.)

In the end Raphael still needed an explanation for what happened so I hissed "She vanished" through my gritted teeth and hoped to be done with it.

But my best friend just gave me look Nr. 4 which roughly translated to "Are you being serious?" (Raphael had talking with only his facial expressions down to an art form) and echoed my words. "Vanished?"

His doubting tone only fueled my grief induced anger. "Yes, vanished" I repeated, sarcasm coloring my words. "As in disappeared, fade away, dematerialize. Do you get my drift?"

While I was busy mocking him Raphael slowly backed out of my personal space and held his hands up in surrender.

Smart boy.

"Okay," he said, this time in a soothing voice like wanted to calm a cornered animal. "She vanished. I believe you but ..." his brows furrowed "how did you even manage that?"

That was an excellent question. "I have absolutely no idea."

He sighed deeply. "Of course you don't."

I couldn't decide if I should be offended or feel sorry for him. I settled on a mixture of both and started pacing up and down my living room like a caged tiger.

"It's not like I can help it. It just sort of ... happened," I finished lamely, painfully aware that I was spouting excuses which weren't even slightly convincing. "Well, I switched up the materials a little bit and Coffeebean jumped into the middle circle but how did it end up like ... that." I pointed at the scorched floor dramatically. 

Raphael just stared at me blankly, his face an emotionless mask. "You know, I am aware that you are proud and stubborn to the point where it borders on stupidity but now you are just being an idiot."

He stated it like it was a fact and I bristled at the accusation.

Then his face set into a scowl and he ruffled through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I mean I get that you don't want me to do all of your work. You want to figure this out on your own. You want to prove yourself and announce to the world – to your parents – that you are not this helpless little girl who gets scolded by her aunt for being a noisy brat. However this doesn't mean that you are on your own. I am your friend Cas and I want to help you."

At the end his words weren't just an offer. It came out like a mixture of demand and plea.

I sighed suddenly overwhelmed with the pure feeling of crippling exhaustion.

He had a point. He had a tremendously _huge_ point. Mostly because Raphael Yves knew me since I was a tiny six year old midget hiding from noisy party guests which meant he could follow my thought process frighteningly well. He understood my actions and my reasons for them (sometimes he understood me better than myself) but in contrast to me he didn't let recklessness cloud his judgment.

(I kind of admired him for that.)

However it didn't change the facts so I still tried to convince him to stop meddling. 

"I need a successful performed summoning which results in a demon contract to get a membership in the guild Raphael," I stated flatly. "And if your dear grandmother – the head of the summoning guild as you may have forgotten – didn't hate me for '_ruining her precious grandson with __outrageous ideals of rebellion' _I would welcome your help with open arms. I really would." He snorted at that – because of my impersonation of his hated relative or my use of sarcasm I couldn't take a guess. "But unfortunately, I can guarantee you that I can bid the legacy of my parents goodbye if the old hag notices even a hint of your influence in my report, so yeah, I need to decline."

He flinched. It was small but it happened and ... yep ... there it was _the guilt._

_Urgh._

(I didn't want him to feel bad for me. To blame himself. It wasn't his fault that his grandmother was a stubborn old hag who lived in the dark ages. He shouldn't feel miserable for wanting to _help_ me. _Oh my god the more I think about it, the more I realize how much of a jerk I am_.)

Suppressing the urge to apologize (because I wanted to make a statement – an "I'm sorry" would totally ruin it!) I flapped myself on the coach and tried to look casual (trying being the keyword here).

  
With neither us backing down you could probably cut the tension in the room with a butter knife.

Our intense showdown via creepy eye-contact was interrupted by a loud rumbling.

Well, it sounded more like a grumble but still, it was enough to bring us out of our stupor.

While I fixed my eyes on Raphael's stomach the man in question suddenly found the painting on the wall to his left incredibly fascinating.

Soon after I noticed the red on the tip of his ears and didn't bother to suppress my shit-eating grin.

"Hungry much?" I teased, the former tension completely forgotten faced with the chance get the rise out of my normally composed friend.

Raphael still avoided my amused gaze and mumbled nearly inaudible. 

"It's totally your fault. I was making lunch when you called."

My guilt reared its ugly head again and honestly I was getting sick off it. 

Fighting with my best friend was irritating, exhausting and just a plain pain in the ass for all parties involved. The pure energy I needed to put into the dispute wasn't even worth it since nine out of ten times Raphael always won our little spats.

So I decided to end this unnecessary argument with the most effective peace offering known to humankind.

_**Food**_.

Thus we ended up on my coach both of us nibbling on our pizza (plain cheese for me, salami with extra hot pepperonis for Raphael) watching soap operas and trash talking the main actress all the while.

I still felt the loss of my cat but I was adaptable. I would get over it. 

Eventually.

In the future (the _very_ distant future).

But at least my best friend got something out of this disaster of a day as he conned me into signing a contract which stated that I wouldn't attempt another summoning without Raphael by side until he said otherwise.

And the sneaky little shit knew I was forced to honor the terms of a contract because a demon summoner - successful or not - who breaks a written promise may as well look for another job. (It's a matter of pride. Don't ask.)

Well there go all my secretly planned experiments.

Bye bye fun and adventure. Welcome tediously boring research. (*shudder*)  
  
  
  


Cassandras summoning journal

_written by Cassandra Felicitas Knightingale _ **edited by Raphael Yves**

_Try # 2 on 26th April_

_demon for summoning: _still_ low rank fire demon class E_

_safety precautions:_ _ 1 fire extinguisher + 1 low rank barrier (I hope you are happy Raphael thanks to you I needed to pull an all-nighter to read that stuff up) _ **I aim to please**

_m_ _aterials: _ _1 liter chicken blood, 3 candles, 1 anchor stone _ **why? ... just ** ** _why?_ **

_observations: __cat jumped into summoning array right after I finished my spell → cat disappeared in a great flash of light + blood symbols where burned into the floor leaving black scorch marks (note: they are not removable, believe me i _tried_)_

_conclusion:_ _ FAILURE_

_reasons for failure:_ _ wrong blood used, cat disturbed chanting and ruined the summoning array + all the other things that went wrong the first time _ **well at least you learned something from this ... whatever you want to call it**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way don't expect regular updates. I had those two chapters pre-written and I'm currently working on the third one but it's slow going.


	3. Interlude: Demon Summoning for Dummies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing a bit of worldbuilding and explaining the basics of summoning. Hopefully it makes sense ^^'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unedited but right now I'm just so happy I actually managed to write enough for a whole chapter I can't be bothered. I will check it later.  
I still hope you have fun reading and maybe leave a comment on the way out.

Being intimidated by a building was not a fun past time.  
Mostly because the occasional passerby will stare at you weirdly since you stand completely fixed on the same spot without moving an inch for at least half an hour.  
Creepily glaring at the coat of arms of the summoning guild probably won’t help to convince people of your sanity.  
I should really get my shit together. Before they start calling law enforcement.  
Unfortunately the last time I walked the halls of this massive joke of Ancient Greek architecture was on the day of my parent’s funeral so let’s be said I was not visibly motivated.  
In the past seven years I avoided this place like a fire demon shied away from holy water. I had a lot of sensible, rational reasons. Memories of my parents, old dimwits who had such mayor sticks up their asses it’s a miracle that they don’t choke on it.  
But in the end all those things don’t really matter. Because if there is one reason why I absolutely refused to take a single step inside this building it would be following:  
Paperwork.  
As a child you fear the monster under your bed or the shadows in the dark. As an adult the utter horror of bureaucracy will be the bane of your existence. It’s like homework but worse because you are actually forced to do it if you want to be a functioning member of society.  
As you can see I loathe paperwork with every inch of my being which technically makes my chosen profession my own personal hell.  
To explain this you need to know how this branch of magic actually works, so let me give you a bit of a lesson.  
Demon summoning is one of the most popular jobs in the magical field mostly because you don’t need a lot magical talent to perform a summon.  
For other magics however you need an affinity.  
You can’t learn how to be a warlock or an elemental. You either can spit fire at birth or move your teddy bear with the will of your thoughts or you can’t. Being born with enough magic and the ability to directly use it is like winning the lottery. It’s rare as hell and only one person in a thousand is blessed with the skill.  
So, the rest of the magicless population has to be satisfied with forms of passive magic.  
You see, sorcerers, warlocks, elementals they all practice this sparkling fairy tail bullshit magic, while demon summoning is more like science. The only thing you really need for it is tons of books and a functioning brain. Well, that and patience. So much patience.  
But don’t let it be said that summoning is easy. You couldn’t be more wrong. It’s overwhelmingly difficult, more time goes into preparation than the actual ritual and don’t you dare drawing, chanting or researching something slightly wrong or it will literally blow up in your face. Let me tell you, the job is certainly not known for its low mortality rate.  
But if you not what you are doing, it’s easy money. There will always be people in need for demons, be it for spying, stealing or plain destruction and a lot of clients pay good money for their own demon contract.  
So yeah, there it is. Contracts.  
Long story short, you can structure demon summoning in three parts.  
Research. Summoning. Negotiation.  
Researching is the science part. Depending on where you strength lie this can be a pain in the ass or a walk in the park. First of all you need to read a lot of books. Remember my first summoning? Yeah, this train-wreck cost me eleven books with at least 100 pages each and it was one of the easy ones.  
So, not a fan of reading? Don’t become a summoner.  
After you have the information (What demon? What class? What abilities? Etc.) comes math which, honestly, is annoying as hell (in my opinion). Because all the stuff you read up? You need to put it in some kind of formula so that you can draw up your summoning circle without accidentally inviting Satan in your living-room.  
Then you have biology for blood-mixing which is even more disgusting than what you are currently imagining, believe me. Blood is very important for summoning, it’s where the magic comes from so you can’t skip that step. (No matter how often you ask your best friend, the answer will always stay the same).  
There is probably even more science involved if you step up the difficulty but to be honest all that is enough for me at the moment.  
To the next part. Summoning.  
I always believed that the actual act of summoning a demon is some bizarre kind of art. You draw the circle, decorate the room with dozens of candles, create and sing a chant. Basically you are a weird mixture of painter, poet, musician and interior designer. It can be fun if not extremely exhausting since you are working under a lot of pressure.  
So far so good. I can deal with those part of the job even if I am tremendously bad at it. It’s the last part which goes against every fiber of my being.  
I don’t have a problem with being a scientist or an artist. But in part three? You need to be a lawyer.  
After successfully summoning a demon (not that I ever got this far) you need to built up a contract which leaves the demon in service and you uneaten. You need to convince them to work with you because most of them are either grumpy or fire spitting mad at being interrupted from their nap (or what else demons do in their spare-time) and bond to the mortal plane by some flimsy bloodwork.  
Before the summoning you need to write up a draft which in the long term turns out to be totally useless since you need to bargain with the demon for every single sentence anyway.  
Basically you need to come up with a foolproof demon contract on the fly while trying to trick a creature which is known for deviousness and cunning into agreeing to your terms at the same time.  
To sum up it’s a mayor pain in the ass.  
Frankly, I am kind of terrified when it’s my turn to wrangle with a demon in an epic verbal showdown but I digress.  
Coming back to the fact that I am currently finding excuses for never setting a foot inside the building in front of me.  
The reason? Contracts aren’t the only form of paperwork in this job.  
There are registration forms, status updates, safety protocols, research papers, membership upgrades, client contracts and don’t get me started with summoning reports.  
Every single piece of paper involves going to the summoning guild, be it for getting paperwork (registration forms) or delivering it (summoning reports).  
I am here for my registration forms so that I can actually be considered an active Practitioner and maybe get my membership. (Hopefully in the near future … yeah who am I kidding, it’s not gonna happen anytime soon.)  
After the last attempt I realized I didn’t take this summoning gig seriously. I was fooling around and it wasn’t doing me any favors.  
First of all, I needed the money and you only got paid for summoning if you are a member of the guild (unless you are doing it the … illegal way but no way in hell I’m opening that can of worms). Before membership comes registration as Practitioner which is a nice way of saying you want membership but you aren’t skilled or rich enough to get it. And yes, you can bribe your way in, the guild is as corrupt as every organization whose leaders consists of old fossils. Unfortunately, I am already living of my inheritance after my aunt kicked me out of her house, so I could barely afford my rent – buying myself into the guild was miles out of my financial reach, it wasn’t even funny dreaming about it.  
Still my money problems weren’t the main reason why I convinced myself to come here. I came mostly because I was sick of avoiding this place.  
There was a time when I called the guild my second home. My parents were one of the best summoners of the guild so I followed them around like a puppy, watching them negotiate with a client, helping them fetch books in the library. I spent most of my childhood in this building. The guild as well as demon summoning were one of the last connection to my parents after they burned down with our house all those years ago. This job was their legacy and my heritage. It was time I stopped being messing around and started being a responsible adult.  
So I took a deep breath and opened the door.

~.~

Inside I was greeted by a reception room so bright and shiny I kind of wanted to get out my non-existent sunglasses to protect my delicate eyes from all the luxury.  
The marble white floor combined with the obscure statues of modern art decorating the room screamed pretentious assholes while the fountain in the middle of the room made me wonder if I could drown myself in it.  
However, I resisted my self-destructive urges and unwillingly approached the receptionist.  
The woman behind the gigantic desk looked like a stereotypical office lady who gossiped more than worked and judged people by their appearance instead of personality.  
When she noticed my arrival her look of utter boredom was replaced by contempt before it was hidden behind a smile so fake, it might as well be painted on.  
“Hello and welcome to the headquarters of the summoning guild. What can I do for you?”  
You can grant me a quick and painless death to save me from the horrors that are to come. I thought rather gloomy but didn’t make the mistake to actually say the words out aloud.  
“I would like to request the registration forms for temporary membership.”  
There nice, polite and to the point. Raphael would be so proud.  
If possible her smile got even faker and I could feel her cataloging my outfit (my only intact clean jeans, a gray hoodie and bright red sneakers), my posture (slumped and barely withholding from fidgeting nervously), my hair (a complete mess) and writing me off as a hopeless case crying for attention.  
“Do you have the recommendation?” she asked me sweetly, probably thinking a slob like me could never get the letter needed to be even considered as a candidate.  
Jokes on her though, I have a best friend who has been a senior member of the guild for years and in this case I wasn’t ashamed of abusing the shit out of this little fact.  
Smugly I handed her Raphael’s official looking recommendation letter all the while watching her widening eyes, the only true sign of incredulity she allowed to slip through her mask. (Never let it be said the guilds employees aren’t professionals.)  
Slowly – the action screaming skepticism – she read the letter and checked it for forgery. Like there was any way this piece of paper wasn’t absolutely flawless. Raphael has perfected the art of paperwork while I was still struggling bullshitting essays in middle school.  
“This seems to be in order.” Her pursed lips told me exactly how pleased she was by that. She quickly rummaged through her drawers until she found the correct forms which where promptly dumped into my hands.  
She dismissed me with a “Bring them back filled out and signed. Have a nice day.” apparently deciding I wasn’t worth her time anymore.  
Well, the feeling was definitely mutual.  
My arms loaded with papers which are definitely more worth than the rent of my entire apartment complex combined, I turned my back on the rude receptionist and walked out of the building.  
I hoped Raphael was home. There was no way I would understand even half of the legal gibberish in these forms.


	4. Try # 3 and apparently the wifi isn't the only thing with a shitty connection here

Like some wise person once said: Once was an incident. Twice was a coincidence. And three times a pattern.

I could definitely see the pattern in my summoning attempts and looking at sorry state of my coach I can’t say that it looked pretty.

“At least it wasn’t on fire,” I said.

“Of course it wasn’t on fire! You completely blew it up!” My best friend reach the point of fury where only aimlessly walking around my tiny apartment could calm his temper.

I didn’t bother to hide my pout. “Come on stop being so pessimistic. There is a good side: I didn’t need to use Berta.”

Raphael stopped his pacing to glare at me. How he could pull off looking furious and bemused at the same time was beyond me.

“Who the hell is Berta?”

Red slowly blossomed on my cheeks, mortified at the thought that I slipped up and told Raphael about naming inanimate objects. He would never let me live it down.

“Nothing”, I muttered, hoping that he would drop the subject.

He must certainly did not drop the subject.

“Who is she? I never heard of her.” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Are you cheating on me?”

I snorted, incredulous at the implications of that statement. “Don’t worry. You are still the only person insane enough to be my friend.”

He continued glaring at me. “Stop trying to change the subject. Who is Berta? If you are involving somebody else those messes you create purely by breathing in the wrong direction, then I need to know so I can do damage control.”

At the mere thought of damage control Raphael looked and sounded like he didn’t have any more fucks to give.

(And honestly? Same. We just never really recovered after the honey incident in 8th grade.)

Considering our shared traumatic experience, I should just take one for the team and just confess.

So I did.

Raphael just looked me dead in the eye and said. “Your fire extinguisher? Really? Why would you-? And Berta? What kind of name is that? It’s sounds like the name of an old lady living next door.”

I threw my hands up. “Hey! Shut up! Naming things is hard okay?”

He smiled at me indulgently. “If you say so.”

“Stop judging me and help me figure out what went wrong instead,” I muttered, still a bit peeved.

With that cue we walked through the whole ritual again without finding anything helpful.

“Well, maybe it wasn’t a technical error but a connection issue instead,” Raphael mused.

Connection issue? Never heard of that before. I quickly voiced my thoughts.

Raphael shrugged, still examining my work of bloody art in deep concentration. “Normally, this only comes up with high level summons who can simple refuse your call because their magic is stronger than yours. But I can’t come up for another explanation why this didn’t work. I checked everything else.”

I felt tired all of a sudden. Even when I managed a flawless ritual something still got in the way of my success. I started to wonder if I was cursed.

“Can a lower class demon even resist the summoning pull?” I asked. “The books say their magic is to weak for that.”

“It certainly is. However, maybe our materials weren’t up to the challenge and weakened the binding effect? How old did you say this blood was again? Or you just got unlucky and the demon has access to high amounts of outer magic? No, that doesn’t make any sense...” The rest of his words turned into inaudible mutterings. It would probably take a while until he got back to the world of the living.

“Well no matter. We just switch up the demon class and we should be fine,” my best friend decided cheerily after a few minutes of coming up with crazy theories to explain my failure.

But switching demon species. I suppressed a grimace. I would to need to hit the books again, wouldn’t I? And redo the math. And get new blood.

Urgh. Now I just wanted to tell Raphael to fuck off, crawl under my extra fluffy blanket and forget that the world existed for the next few days.

Of course Raphael – the perceptive little bugger – immediately noticed the tangents of despair my mind wandered off to and gave me a silver ray of hope.

“Don’t worry. You only need to change the elemental rune from fire to a different one and you can leave the rest as it is.”

The relieve must have shown on my face because he dissolved into giggles after getting a good look at it.

“Yeah, redoing everything from scratch would have been a pain but lucky for you this is a basic ritual, so swapping stuff is pretty uncomplicated. Now for the demon. You want to stick with elements for now, right?” I nodded. “Okay, then wind is out. Wind demons are flighty as hell. It’s fucking annoying. Always changing shapes, switching languages, moods, sometimes personalities. You would murder the bastard before the contract negotiation even starts. That leaves us with earth and water. What would you prefer?”

I was kind of stumped since I decided on summoning a fire demon on a whim. And because they looked kind of badass in the pictures. (What? I am a simple woman with a certain standard of aesthetics okay!)

Now, I could just ask Raphael about all the characteristics, pros and cons of those two demon classes but I was tired and cranky. So I just went: “fuck this shit!” and threw a coin.

Raphael stared at coin, silent and judging but chose not to comment on it. (He knew to well for that. Sometimes you just had to pick your battles.)

“Head is water, tails is earth.”

I tossed to coin into the air with the practice of somebody who left too many of their decision to the chance of a coin toss.

The coin landed on head, deciding the future course of my next summoning.

“Water isn’t a bad choice,” Raphael nodded in thought, “they are even tempered and not as stubborn as Earth demons.”

“Lucky me, I guess.”

My best friend snorted and gave me a droll look. “You would have known that if you actually did your research or just asked me, you know?”

I grimaced at him, ignoring the dig and focused on the mess that is my living room. There was coach stuffing everywhere and blood still needed to be cleaned up before it dries. Why exactly was I doing this again?

Right, quick cash and filling the hole left by my parent’s deaths. (And spite. Sooo much spite. Fuck these old geezers in the guild. Fuck them with a cactus. _Hard_.)

Cassandras summoning journal

_written by Cassandra Felicitas Knightingale _ **edited by Raphael Yves**

_Try # 3 on 4h May_

_demon for summoning:  low rank fire demon class E _ **once again**

_safety precautions: 1 fire extinguisher (unused) + 1 low rank barrier _ **you should probably up your protections a bit, thinking about only having one barrier while summoning gives me the chills tbh**

_materials: 1 liter pig blood, 3 candles, 1 anchor stone _ **I should state that I am proud of you for not switching materials but I was literally standing next to you ** **when you nearly picked the wrong candles so … yeah**

_observations: after performing the summoning (correctly I might add) nothing happened for two minutes when suddenly my coach exploded showering us in stuffing _ **I don’t why this stuff happens to you **

_conclusion: FAILURE_

_reasons for failure: apparently it is a connection issue with the demon world, I couldn’t understand the details for the life of me but Raphael has a master in demonology so he is probably right _ **I am always right**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I actually managed to finish this thing. Most of it was already written for a long time, I just kind of didn't know how to finish it. But now it's finally done!! I don't feel particular good at the moment. Anxiety is a bitch and all that but I am happy that I was kind of productive so there's that.   
I hope you had fun reading :) till next time (whenever that may be)


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